Happy Birthday, Feathers
by Sandylee007
Summary: It's a birthday and Clint's youngest son has a little chat with his dad. The whole recently expanded Avengers family is there to celebrate. Will there be a ray of sunlight even through the darkest clouds? AGE OF ULTRON SPOILERS, CONTAINS AN ALTERNATIVE ENDING, ONESHOT


A/N: Sooooo… This fic just popped up into my head. I blame it on a particular 'Game of Thrones' episode. (chuckles) Before getting to the actual business, though…

WARNINGS: character death, some language… tissues…?

DISCLAIMER: See any pigs flying up there with magnificent hawks and other birds? Yeah, me neither. So I DEFINITELY don't own anything. (Insert massive pout here.)

Awkay… I suppose that it's time to get to the actual story, isn't it? I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

 ** _Happy Birthday, Feathers_**

* * *

At the age of seven Nathaniel Clive Barton considered himself a big boy. Big enough to investigate his home's basement despite all the hard worded warnings he'd received. He'd grown up surrounded by the Avengers. He refused to be a coward!

He sneaked down the loudly squeaking stairs, his heart thumping with an immense amount of excitement, his wide, eager blue eyes scanning the shadows and his wild, blond hair sticking up in odd angles. He was carrying a bow and arrows, those from a toystore. But he was still prepared to face any monster that might be creeping there. Of course he was. He'd be one of the Avengers when he grew up.

After a few minutes of searching through the mostly empty space his excitement fell considerably. There was nothing there. Just dust and some pieces of debris. From how much he'd been warned against entering he'd expected something far more dangerous.

"Didn't your mother warn you not to come here, young man?"

He spun around and smirked sheepishly at his dad, who was leaning against the stairs with a gently admonishing look on his face. "Yeah. I just… wanted to see." He pouted, looking around. "There's nothing special here."

"That's right, buddy. Just a wreck of stairs that may collapse on you at any moment." Sensing his disappointment the man smiled and ruffled his hair. The hand felt cold, as it always did. He didn't mind. "Don't worry, Tiger. You'll get to fight a lot of bad guys when you grow up."

"Really?" Nathaniel's spirits improved once more and he felt his eyes light up. He looked at his dad. "Just like you?"

"Yup." He was too young to understand the sadness in those eyes, which were so much like his. "Exactly like me." His dad then frowned at the bruise developing on his face. "Now what's that?"

Nathaniel sighed and looked down for a moment. "It was Mark. From school. He… said some mean stuff." _About you._

His dad sighed. "You do know that it's not okay to punch people just because they say mean things, don't you?" The man then gave him a hug, to which he clung tightly. "It'll get better. I promise."

A new voice startled him. "Nathaniel?" There was a loud warning in his mom's eyes when she walked down the stairs. "How many times have I told you that it's dangerous to come down here? That's why the door's always locked."

Nathaniel did his best to appear innocent. He wasn't sure how well he succeeded, since this was the third time he'd been caught here. "Sorry mom."

She sighed, shaking her head. He could just see how hard she fought against a smile. "Now get out of here. It's almost time to blow the candles. Just be careful, alright?" He was already speeding his way towards where he knew the cake to be when she went on. "And sweetie… Who were you talking to? Aren't you a bit old to have an imaginary friend?"

Nathaniel looked at her, feeling embarrassed and insulted all at once. "It wasn't an imaginary friend", he announced firmly. "It was dad."

* * *

Laura Barton managed to maintain a hold of herself until her son was well out of earshot. Then, feeling a already too familiar stab of agony, she clasped one hand to her lips and emitted a muffled moan. Her eyes grew misty and it was a small miracle that no tears spilled.

 _God damnit, Clint…!_

So many times, oh so many times, she came close to losing her husband. Somehow she'd always known that she only had him on a loan. It didn't make the pain any less suffocating, the gaping hole left in her any smaller.

She could still see, as clearly as if it happened hours earlier, Natasha's reflection on the mirror. Such grief on the usually emotionless assassin's face that it was a miracle the redhead wasn't screaming out loud.

* * *

/ _"… tried but just wasn't fast enough …"_ /

* * *

They told her that her husband died a hero, that he'd managed to save the life of a little boy. That in his last moments Clint hadn't been scared or alone. Laura just wanted to scream until there was no air left in her lungs.

The world had been saved but at what cost?

She lost her husband. Their children would grow up without their dad. His youngest would only know him through photographs and the home videos they'd recorded to preserve some of the precious, far too little time they had together.

Her world wasn't destroyed but it had been damaged beyond all repair.

Laura wiped her eyes and it wasn't until then she noticed the few tears that'd escaped despite her hard battle. That was when her eyes strayed to a small heart that'd been carved on one of the cellar's wooden pillars. And through the sharp shards of her broken heart she managed a tiny smile.

* * *

/ _Laura smiled on the day she watched Clint carving the heart, her hand running tender circles on her stomach that was heavy with their first. She still wasn't sure if this was the Hawk's way of marking his territory or just a small, cheesy and heartwarming sign of affection. Nor did it matter much._

 _The companionable silence must've lasted for at least an hour until she finally spoke. "Who would've thought that it'd come to this when you showed up to my ER with a gunshot wound?"_

 _Clint smiled at her. Straightening himself he made his way to her and kissed first her lips, then her stomach. "I did." And there wasn't a trace of hesitation or remorse in his voice. "That's why I asked you out when you were stitching me up."_ /

* * *

Laura wiped her eyes furiously, wondering how much of a mess she'd made of her makeup. "I love you, Feathers. And I miss you", she whispered. For a few moments she wished that she would've been able to see him again like her son did, even if only for a second. "Happy birthday."

With that she turned around and began to walk away, leaving the bittersweet memories behind for at least a fleeting moment. She climbed up the untrustworthy stairs, absently noticing that her feet felt oddly heavy, until the sunlight embraced and blinded her. She shielded her eyes, peering towards where sounds of laughter and chattering were coming from. For the first time that day smiling didn't hurt.

On their backyard the remaining Avengers were entertaining her children. Bruce stood in the sidelines with a half helpless, half terrified look on his face. She would've wanted to know which one of her rascals had managed to put the bunny ears on him. Thor's fate had been a lot more gruesome. His face had been painted to what'd most likely been aiming towards a tiger but looked more like a puppy that'd spent too long in the rain. Natasha, who was standing right beside Bruce, wasn't even trying to hide her delivish smirk while whispering to her visibly excited older son's ear. Wanda and Pietro were cheering her son on loudly, and it was a small miracle that Pietro hadn't joined in yet. Laura had been surprised but pleased to see that they'd joined the party. She knew that their journey to becoming Avengers hadn't been easy. She was glad that they didn't run away.

That was when Steve sensed her there. He answered her smile with a small, tight one and looked away almost immediately. His obvious guilt ached her. How long would it take until he'd be able to look at her without feeling like Clint's death was his fault?

But now wasn't the time to mourn and linger in bleak memories. They'd come here to celebrate the life of their very own Hawk. And so she walked on, feeling a little lighter than before. "Who wants to cut some cake?" Which was the shape of a hawk, of course. Lime and white chocolate. Clint's favorite.

All of a sudden they were all buzzing around. The whole backyard was filled with laughter and joy. Laura found herself wondering just how their family got so very huge. The thought brought a new, slightly melancholy smile to her face.

 _See what you've done?_ , she thought fondly to herself. Hoping that the thought reached her husband somehow. She could almost see his answering smug smile.

And right there, with all of them together, her husband was still with them for a little while.

* * *

 ** _End._**

* * *

A/N: Oh dang… They lost Clint. (sniffles) But at least they're a family, even after losing one of their own. And no way is Hawkeye EVER going to be forgotten!

Soooo… Any good, at all? Or to be deleted immediately? The word's yours, folks!

In any case thank you SO MUCH for reading! And who knows. Maybe I'll see you again one day?

Take care!


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